Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
I ’m a harlot. A cheater. A scorned woman who should be made to carry the letter A.
I’m rapidly pacing in my hotel room, where I’ve hidden myself to decompress.
Giant mistake. I’ve made a Giant Mistake. I just kissed Weasel. Weasel, who is my colleague. My arch nemesis – or at least he was . This is all so weird. I feel my chest constrict and it’s hard to breathe.
I lecture myself. Nice people don’t do this. Nice people don’t kiss men that aren’t their boyfriends, and like it .
I pick up a bottle of water and take a slow drink. How did this even happen? I try to trail back to the beginning, and I’m certain this started when I agreed to take a stupid plus one to the wedding with me, but part of me keeps going. And once I unwind one strand, there’s another, and I see how they’re all intimately connected like some giant fucked-up web.
I feel I’ve been running around this entire wedding – my entire life – appeasing people. Trying to be helpful. In order to be sweet, nice, kind.
But maybe Weasel’s right: if I’m nice to everyone then I get in situations like this. I get Tony wanting me to do work while I’m supposed to be on vacation. And Lulu demanding I do name tags and dead fish like an employee rather than a sister. And Mia embarrassing me with stories about Gem-man, while I sit there and take it, not saying a peep. And Adam not really caring about how this wedding is going or the fact that his refusal to come has led to my kissing Weasel .
I pace up and down the small hotel room.
Fuck’s sake. Let’s be honest, I’ve been blindly going through most of my adult life saying, ‘Yes! I can! Yes!’ Being the Good Girl. The one who always has an answer and a smile. Because I hate the guilt that comes when I say no. The anxiety and the fear that everything will just fall apart if I’m not there to piece and glue it together. But doing everything for everyone demands my time and my energy, and I’m exhausted.
And now I’ve hurt people: the real Adam at home; myself; possibly even Weasel, by kissing him, confusing everything. I feel bone-crushingly bad. Embarrassment and shame rush through my body.
Fuck, it’s horrible. I’m horrible.
All I know is this: I must undo the mistake. Particularly because I’m meant to be the kind one, the caring one, the nice one.
The realisation dawns on me and I feel a bit ill. Was Weasel right all along? Was I really a doormat? Was I so nice that it all just bottled up and now I’ve exploded and done something so out of character as a result?
I pick up the phone and hurriedly dial Ruby.
‘Strange question, Ruby. How would you describe me?’
‘Oh, um … sweet, lovely…’
‘Am I a doormat?’ I wince as I said it out loud.
‘I mean … I wouldn’t say “doormat”. But you are … lenient.’
I bite my lip. ‘Okay. How?’
‘You help everyone out when they need it, which is great! But some people have come to expect it of you. Tony quite a bit. Remember that day he gave you some of his receptionist tasks because Susan wasn’t there?’
The truth settles in my stomach like a cold stone. His EA was away so I had to answer his phones and take his messages. I had so many urgent deadlines of my own that I had to work really late to meet them. And I did it all graciously, but then I got sick with a cold and even then I worked from home, whilst I should have been sleeping. I whisper, ‘Yeah I do.’
‘It’s just, I think you being so willing not to think of yourself means no one else does either.’
‘Oh God.’ Everything is falling into place. ‘Do you think that’s why I didn’t get the promotion?’
‘Could be. I really don’t know.’
I take a deep breath in, then let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t want to be known as the editor who will do your admin, or go to events to butter up other authors for other editors. I don’t want to be the girl that everyone thinks will be okay spending time re-doing name tags.’
‘Wait, what? You lost me on the name tags thing.’
‘That’s okay. Thanks for listening and helping, Ruby.’
‘Should I pull a card?’
‘No, now I’m clear what I need to do.’
Crystal clear.
This doormat life is not only casting me as an afterthought in people’s minds, it’s potentially ruining my career.
After thirty-something years of embracing kindness, tolerance, people-pleasing and forgiveness, I’ve finally had enough.
I can feel the blood pumping in my ears. I needed some yang to my yin, some spark, some pep, some spiciness. I needed to remember the girl I was before everything happened with my family, before the affair, the girl who spoke up, the girl Han constantly tries to remind me of.
I shove back my shoulders and feel a surge of energy in my stomach. Well, she’s back now, and there’s only one thing to do.
I have to make this entire situation right. And tell the truth .